The Chair

Just beyond the light shone through as the doors began to close. Not a sound, breeze or anything stirred itself tonight. Yet the silence was deafening and the waiting torture. For in this tiny desolate room - Barren of all but a single chair. A soul will lose it's life - given one more day. For the switch will be drawn as the lights go out. And the world will forget the pain he’s about. © 1993 Dorothy Carr